I had originally planned for this entry to be a first-hand account of grassroots politics, describing the Democratic Party's California Assembly District 14 organizing meeting and my participation in its elections.
Instead, allow me to tell you about a near-death experience that both prevented my attendance at that meeting and prompted a more personal change.
My wife, my brother-in-law, and I were returning from his graduation from a life-changing leadership training program at a ranch in the Nevada desert this past Friday. It was snowing, and had been for most of the day. The road was white and felt greasy even as it dragged at the wheels of our rented car.
I drove slowly, deciding that it was more important to arrive at our hotel in Las Vegas safely than to arrive early. A dark minivan, approaching from the oncoming lane of the two-lane road, suddenly lost control, spinning sideways across both lanes. Everything happened so slowly (it seemed to me) that I was able to review all of my options: 1) swerve off the road and into snow-covered rocks and yucca; 2)
attempt to swerve, and end up losing control myself; 3) slam on the brakes, possibly locking them up and failing to decelerate; 4) brake gently and trust the safety systems. I went with option 4.
I even had time to apologize before impact. "Sorry." BAM
From that moment forward, I was showered with gifts.
Gift number 1: The airbags deployed. We were all wearing seatbelts. Through the acrid smoke rising from the dashboard, I could see that we were all okay. No blood, no compression of the passenger compartment, no cries of pain.
Not knowing what the smoke was about, I got out quickly. (The smoke was from the airbags. Apparently they should really be called "bomb bags" or "rocket bags," as they fire using chemical explosives.)
Gift number 2: I was calm and clear-minded throughout. I credit my parents, whose example in times of crisis has always been self-possessed, pragmatic, and compassionate.
Gift number 3: No fewer than 15 different vehicles stopped to help, or slowed down to ask if we were okay, at various times. One even stayed behind us with its flashers on to prevent a rear-end collision until the highway patrol arrived.
Gift number 4: Along with others who stopped behind us, I approached the minivan. The forward passenger door was caved in, but the young mother and her daughter were unhurt except for bruising.
Gift number 5: Both cars were intact enough that we were able to stay inside until help arrived (temperature and wind chill made it literally life-threatening to be outside).
Gift number 6: My cell phone with its broken antenna found an analog signal 25 miles from the nearest town and I called the highway patrol.
Gift number 7: Woody. He's a chef at the ranch, and helped us before we left by deflating our tires some. The extra traction definitely helped slow us down before impact. He's also a volunteer EMT, and was one of the ambulance guys who came out to help us. Then he gave us his home phone number, telling us he was ready to give us a ride anywhere in town whenever we needed it. I could go on forever about Woody. He's been to hell and back, and none of it stuck to him. A truly giving and caring man, the like of which we meet few times in life.
Gift number 8: Vida. She runs the ranch. She somehow arranged a room for us, even though they were completely booked. She talked to Bart, a stranded bus driver (also staying at the ranch thanks to Vida's hospitality), on our behalf and got us a ride back to Las Vegas with him the next morning.
Needless to say, I didn't make my 7 a.m. flight the next morning back to Oakland, and missed the AD 14 organizing meeting.
It was only on the ride back to Las Vegas the next day, and during the next 48 hours, that I began to really grasp what I had been given. At any time, in any place, my time could be up. More importantly, all of the gifts I had been given came from other people: Woody, my parents, Vida, Bart, the people who designed the car's safety systems, the people who made the laws that required those safety systems, my driving instructor, Jimbo the tow truck driver, Mike the highway patrol officer...the list goes on and on.
These are the reasons I do what I am doing. These people. They have done and given so much; it is past time I gave back to them. My resolve and energy are renewed. I am already on a path to prepare for public protection law and/or a role in government. I will get still more involved in my local area, volunteering with my community organizations and the Democratic party. I am committed to the changes necessary in my professional life to make room for this important work.
My congratulations to those elected to the steering committee this past Saturday. I offer you a sharp mind, an energetic pair of hands, and an able body willing to do what our community needs.
Dear humanity: I owe you all. Thank you.
